5 The past eventually catches up with you

BOOLD BOILD WITHIN HIS VEINS, muscles stiffened and hardened as he balled his hands into fists. Outraged. It angered him deeply that someone had interrupted his little session with his witch.

"My bad, I seem to have interrupted something-" Mischief was the only thing written the intruder's face, in her arrogant triumph, she smirked- just a small pouting of the lips; a narrowing of the eyes and tilting of the head. It was so subtle, it was even more infuriating for Grayson who caught the simple action, the women's smirk was so dark it brought a chill down the witch's spine "It's good seeing you again Gray, I was starting to miss you" she continued.

Misha, devilish women, her blonde hair was poker-straight and pulled back into a low pony-tail. She wore little make-up and was often quite stern, her skin was almost without pigment, her complexion seemed quite washed-out. She was known to only do Marcel's biding, one of the best and oldest vampires following Marcel to ever live, they complimented each other quite well, don't you think?

Although Grayson wasn't that afraid of her... anymore, she loved playing games just like Marcel, no wonder she was his right hand "gal" in his plan on overtaking the "world" as cheesy as that sounds, it was his life's long dream, to strike fear into the souls of beings that roamed the earth, he wanted to be king.

But a major flaw in his plan, that doesn't seem to consider is that someone already had taken that position, but even knowing that he is doing everything he can to overthrow him if you haven't figured it out yet. Why? That was something Grayson hadn't figure out yet, but the one thing he did know was that Marcel needed Grayson to help him, he knows he can't do it alone and that's why he used Grayson but there is just one thing standing in the way, Grayson's underlining hate for him. The beast has attained a hate in being told what do, just as much as he hates Marcel.

"You know you are a very hard person to track, I have trained you well my love-" He hated it when she called him that, Grayson let out a rich, low, warning growl, as her comment brought a distaste in his mouth that he could not describe. It was true she did train Grayson and that is another reason why he was not afraid of her, he knew her way of thinking and fighting habits.

"In every way..." She winced, joy glistening in her eyes, as she eyed Grayson up and down.

"Are you here to chitchat or kill me" it wasn't a question it was more of a statement, he knew the answer. Anger boiled deep in his system, as hot as lava. It churned within, hungry for destruction.

"Oh Gray I would never kill you, that's Marcel's job" she shrugged.

"I'm beginning to think Marcel doesn't have the balls to find me himself-" biting back at her.

"if you're not here to kill me, then why are you here Misha" It was more of a demand than a question.

"Trust me your time will come, but I'm not here for you" she stared at him as she spoke.

"Oh, I do love it when you say my name" She smiled mischievously, slowly making her way towards him. She is slowly getting on his nervous, pushing the witch behind him keeping her out of the site and as far away from Misha as possible. She would be no use to him if she were dead, although no matter how much he justified his protectiveness towards her, why was he feeling possessive over someone he just met. Concentrate Gray... He pushed those thoughts to the side he needed to know what she knew, she held valuable information- least he was hoping she knew something.

This didn't go unnoticed though, "What Gray, I don't do it for you anymore?-" Slowly titling her head, staring him in the eyes as she pouted.

"What Gray I'm not your type anymore?" Her statement really stroke a nerve in Grayson. She looked at him just like a snake watched it's pray, the snake that symbolizes evil in our myths. For these creatures do not require love to raise their young as mammals do. As such they do not evolve an ability to feel love, only to survive. Likewise, the psychopath does not feel love, they are an evolutionary throw-back to our reptilian brains, an accident of genetics.

He was manipulated at the time, he never wanted what she had enforced upon him and he couldn't refuse her even if he had tried and he did multiple times. He would vomit every time she was done with him, it physically broke him, tore him into pieces. Rape was something that he didn't expect from them, the beating and torture had been expected but to be sexually assaulted was not.

"You never were." Grayson's distaste of the idea seethed through his tone, stating it firmly with a straight face, never once looking away, if looks could kill she would have been evaporated by now.

Hurt. She was hurt by that statement as if she can feel, if she did she wouldn't of have enforced herself upon a fifteen-year-old. Anger. White knuckles from clenching her fist too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, her hunched from exudes an animosity that was like acid- burning, slicing, potent. Her face was red with suppressed rage, and when

White knuckles from clenching her fist too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, her hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid - burning, slicing, potent. Her face was red with suppressed rage.

One thing that was clear about Misha, she rarely was a women of patience, her anger always determined her potential move, it was a flaw that stuck with Grayson. She began to swing her fist towards his face, but Grayson easily dodged it.

Fists flying and legs kicking, a full-blown fight has erupted. Giving the witch, Emily an open opportunity to grab the Book of shadows and quickly find some kind of spell, to evaporate the creature called Misha, She'd heard about her.

Nothing good came when this vampire was involved in. Researching her book in desperation, she could seem to find anything, that could be used to help her in that moment, maybe there was but she might have skipped it out of pressure to help in some way.

She had to them know he was alive. They needed to know. Grayson seemed to be the only hope they had against Marcel He has roamed these streets for far too long now it was time to do something about it.

A loud, un-animalistic growl erupt through the air, cracks of bones breaking. Misha's body fell to the ground with a loud thud. Emily quickly turned her head, taking in the scene in front of her, looking panicked but only to find the Creature was lying on the ground unconscious. How did she manage to get herself involved in this mess?

Blood-red eyes stared at Misha's unconscious body, it was the same ones she'd seen in her vision, yet seeing them, in reality, were all the more terrifying, they look blood-thirsty, angry even. She watched them slowly moving their attention towards her, they were much more vivid than in her premonitions.

"We need to move, she won't stay down for long" He stated, trying his hardest to not scare her as he made his way towards her, but the fright she felt, lingering within her didn't fade. Bound to the floor, the shock she felt prevented her from moving from where she was, not making any sudden movements. she felt numb even. Concentrate... this was just a little unreal she thought.

But no matter how unusual and unreal all of this was, she had to get him back. The urge to help him was strong, she knew he definitely wouldn't find his way back without her, Grayson knew nothing about where he came from. Forcing herself to move her body, as it shook slightly, and walking out was a challenge but she had to go. She had to help him.

THE SILENCE WAS POISON TO HER, for in that void of sound the shallowness of her attempts to create a conversation was laid bare. All that could be heard was the car's roaring engine, the wind pushes on the car to no avail. The tires make their monotonous hiss over the rain-washed highway and the air makes its way through the filters is meadow-sweet. All around, through these tinted windows are fields. Inside this tin box destined for the horizon the world outside continues like some choreographed dance but without the soul, it should have.

There was an uneasiness in the air, the things she saw in her premonitions terrified her. That was one word to describe it, she thought. She had seen everything, felt everything, every little detail of his life experience and say she felt sympathy towards him was an understatement. All that pain... She didn't even know how to describe it.

He felt void. A dark void. A never-ending dark void that consumed everything, so you're left feeling nothing. Empty. Nothing to subside your hollow soul that creeps in the shadows, away from any other human life because its emptiness is so consuming it cannot bear to present that everything is okay. Nothing is okay! There was an overpowering feeling of guilt, sadness, emptiness- emotion. This guy was completely broken... And yet he somehow still fights on, she thought.

Emily's head was turned away from him, looking outside through the tinted windows, she could bear to look at him. Deep in thought, so much pain... She couldn't get the images out of her head. Gabriel definitely won't be happy with what happened to him, but hopefully, he would be thrilled to know that his blood is still alive.

"What did you see?" Grayson spoke sternly, he knows what she saw but he needed confirmation. Emily's head snapped towards him, staring at him with emotion that Grayson didn't quite understand what it was.

She cleared her throat to speak," Why?" she was utterly confused as to why he would do that to his kind even after what Marcel had done to him, why would he help him?

"Why What?" Grayson felt confused, he knew what she was referring too but he didn't know what answer to give her.